The Hogwarts Games
by WeasleysWizardingWheezer
Summary: Katniss Everdeen has a choice, leave Panem and go to Hogwarts. Or stay and be reaped for the games. Her choice will help her family, it will help Panem, she just cant afford to think like that.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the start of my Harry Potter/Hunger Games crossover story. The idea came from .net : The Hogwarts Games.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or The Hunger Games they belong to J.K Rowling and Suzanne Collins**

* * *

><p>I wake. The light from the dim morning sun slips in through the closed shutters. I stretch out along the rough canvas bed and blink a few times to see into the dark. In the darkness I see them. My mother and my little sister, Prim. Curled next to their bodies is the ugliest feline known to man, his name? Buttercup. Hardly fitting in my opinion. His face is squashed in, half his ear missing and a violent hiss from his lungs lets me know he is awake. I never liked that cat. I tried to drown him when I first found him, hasn't forgiven me of course. Prim loved the cat, she so unfittingly named Buttercup, but how could I deny my sister this moments happiness. Of course, in District Twelve, we don't get much happiness around here. Well, since my father was killed in a mine explosion a few months ago I haven't been happy since. So now at eleven, I am head of the family. My mother, a shadow of her former self, hardly leaves the bed and we were slowly starving to death. That is until I decided to go hunting. My father taught me to hunt, it's one of the things he managed to do before he was blown to bits, that and sing. But singing won't do you any good here, singing won't quench your hunger, singing won't stop the Hunger Games.<p>

The Hunger Games, in the days before the uprising of the thirteen districts against the Capitol there was no Hunger Games. The Capitol brought these games upon us as punishment for the uprising, those in District Thirteen were the lucky ones, they were killed and therefor would never be reaped for the Hunger Games. The Games were violent and bloodthirsty, each year a boy and a girl between the ages of eleven and eighteen would be chosen from each district, trained and thrown into an arena in a fight to the death. Each year, starting at twelve your name would be placed in the reaping and your names would accumulate until the age of eighteen. Those who were poorer, however, would have the option to sign up for Tesserae and you may choose how many times your name will be entered in order to gain grain and fuel for your family. So now at the age of twelve, my name is in the reaping ball four times instead of just one. A small price to pay to see my family don't starve.

This morning I will not need to hunt, I made sure that I had caught enough for our meal tonight. The celebratory meal after the reaping. Many families will celebrate tonight but two families will close their shutters, for they know that their children may never be seen again. I sit up on the canvas bed and slide of silently, I do not need to wake my family this early not on reaping day, I pull on my trousers and a dark t-shirt before lacing my leather shoes which have moulded to fit my feet and pulling my hair back into a braid. The strawberries that I picked yesterday for the Mayor of District Twelve lie in a basket on our plain wooden table. The Mayor and his family are quite fond of strawberries so I deliver them when I can. I step out of our house, it looks slightly dilapidated compared to those in the victors square. The victors square. The place where the victors of the Hunger Games live. Having only won the games twice, and the first winner now dead, only one person inhabits the victors square in District Twelve. Haymitch Abernathy. He is the mentor for the people who are reaped, and it is possible that District Twelve never win the games because their mentor is a drunk. He returned from the games and ever since, he wallows in his own self-pity, numbing his troubles through drink, while the rest of us struggle to survive. My leather shoes crunch on the gravel path. It is obvious where the well-off citizens of District Twelve live. Their houses are a lot more impressive than the houses the poorer citizens live in. I pass the bakers shop, cakes of all sizes are already lined in the window, but the smell of baking bread doesn't fill the street like it normally does. Even the wealthy fear today, the bakers have three sons, all of them are old enough to be reaped in the games. The youngest is twelve, like me and he won't have to sign up for tesserae because unlike me, the baker and his family are not starving.

Usually, because District Twelve is a mining district at this hour people are usually taking the route down to the mines. But not today. There is no work today, so you might as well sleep in, if you can. I can never sleep on reaping day, it is the day when we lose two of our own to the bloodthirsty viewers of the Capitol and there is nothing we can do about it. I take the long route to the Mayors house, or rather the town hall. It is situated in the centre of the village and later today two glass bowls will be placed out on the balcony filled with thousands of slips, four of those slips being mine. And later today, at two o'clock everyone between the ages of twelve and eighteen will be herded like sheep into the centre of the square, roped off by their sex and age category, the oldest at the front, the youngest at the back. And later today two people, two children, will be sent to fight, sent to certain death.

I go round to the back of the Mayor's house, and rap on the back door. My hands have cuts and scrapes on them from hunting in the woods and from climbing trees. I wait a moment and there is a small scampering as the door is pulled open. Stood there is a girl, my age, with long brown hair, dressed in a white dress with pink ribbons. Reaping clothes, nothing like the drab school uniform we are usually subjected into wearing. Madge, the Mayor's daughter is alright, some people expect her to be snobbish but she is quite down to earth and because of this we spend our time at lunch together, and I talk to her more than I talk to most people.

"Good morning, Katniss." She says smiling. I smile back and pull back the cover on the basket of strawberries. Her eyes light up when she sees the delectable fruit, she mustn't have had any since when I brought some last month.

"I thought you might like them." I say. "For celebration, after the reaping." Her eyes waver as I say this. Madge has never agreed with the Hunger Games but then again nobody in their right mind would, and the Capitol are quite clearly not in their right mind.

"There is nothing to celebrate about today." She says solemnly. She's right, last year, a girl from the year above us was reaped. She was killed on the first day, never really stood much of a chance against the other tributes, she was sick before she entered the arena, nothing could really help her once she had been picked. I nod curtly and I hand the basket out to her, which she takes a small but distant smile now on her lips. On her dress I notice a golden pin, a mocking jay the symbol of the uprisings, well that is how I see it anyway. It symbolises District Twelve, how we are surviving even though the odds are definitely not in our favour.

Mocking Jays are all over the woods, they were invented by the Capitol to spy on the Districts during the uprising, they would relay messages to the Capitol and it was a really clever invention for a time. That is, until the Districts found out and they sent the Mocking Jays back with false information. Of course, the Capitol tried to destroy most of the hybrid birds but they bred with other birds and now there are hundreds of them living around Panem. Madge catches me looking at the pin, smiles and unhooks it from her dress. She holds it out to me.

"No, I couldn't." I say, shaking my head at Madge. She grabs my hand, presses the pin into it, and curls my fingers around the intricate gold surface.

"Take it, Katniss. It will give you good luck." She smiles and looks down at the strawberries. "Thank you for the strawberries. Good luck today, Katniss."

"You too and thank you." Madge retreats from the door and closes it behind her leaving me staring at the little golden pin that symbolises so much. I rub my thumb along the delicate golden surface and it gleams from the rays of the sun. Something good is going to happen today, I can feel it.

I take my time walking back towards my house. I pass the black market, more commonly known as the Hob, this is where I trade all my catches. I wave over at Greasy Sae who is busy serving up a stew to a strange man sitting at the counter. I have never seen this man in District Twelve before, but then again District Twelve is a big place. Greasy Sae is one of my best traders, she buys everything from me, even a wild dog which I shot by accident. People won't pay much for wild dog when they can afford better but Greasy Sae buys it all. "Once it's in the soup I'll call it beef." She said to me, and well, meat is meat, take it or leave it. The shutters are open on most houses now, but everyone I see is in a dreary mood, but I have to stay positive, for my mother, for Prim.

The shutters on the house are open, which means they are up. Buttercup is sitting on the windowsill, he hisses at me as I go past and I shoot a glare in response. God I hate that cat. Prim is sitting at the table when I enter, eating a slice of bread which I traded two rabbits for at the Hob yesterday. At eight years old Prim won't have to enter the reaping for four years and even then I won't let her take tesserae, I wouldn't let her put herself in danger. That is my job. She takes small nibbles from the bread and looks up as I enter. Her smile is almost infectious as she jumps from the chair and runs over to me wrapping her skinny arms around my waist. I smile and ruffle her hair. I am glad Prim won't be entered in the games for another four years, this way I know she is protected for now, and even if she is reaped I would protect her then, I would take her place.

"Morning, Prim." I say. She drops her arms from my waist and smiles up at me before skipping back to her chair to finish her bread. I get to work making the meal for after the reaping. So even if I am reaped I know my mother and Prim would eat tonight. I use the leftover meat from the squirrels and rabbits and mix it in with a few herbs which I collected from the woods yesterday. I left the meal on the stove the smell of cooked meat filling the room. It was a nice smell, not too strong and it would sustain us for tonight. My mother enters then, offering to watch the food while I take a bath. I have to look presentable for the reaping. I slide into the warm water in the tub and scrub away the dirt from yesterday's hunt I even go as far as washing my hair. After I am finished and my hair is towel dried and platted elegantly by Prim, I put on my reaping clothes. They consist of a light blue, almost white blouse and an dark blue skirt which is accompanied by white flats. After eating lunch, more bread with some cheese from Prim's goat, Lady, we headed out towards the square. It was a short five minute walk to the village square but the way was crowded unlike this morning. I held Prim's hand as we walked, nausea building up inside me. What would happen to them if I was reaped? They would have no means of food, only the oil and grain from the tesserae and that wouldn't sustain them for long. Once we hit the village square I was herded away from my mother and Prim and into the group of twelve year olds. I stood in silence with them as the Mayor came out onto the balcony, he droned on about the uprising and then finally the last few Hunger Games. He then introduced Effie Trinket, she looked out of place with her green tinged skin and pink hair which I guessed was a wig. I stared up at the two glass bowls which held thousands of names. The odds were in my favour, but then again odds had never favoured me before.

"Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favour!" She squeaked in her Capitol accent that made me want to throw up. She was always so cheery, it was like she had no idea that what was going on was horribly wrong. She crossed the balcony to the bowl on the left. The camera crews which were perched on top of nearby buildings watching her and the crowd like hawks. "Ladies first!" She digs her hand deep into the bowl of slips and in one swift movement pulls a folded piece of paper out. The crowd draws a collective gasp as one life will be shattered in the reading of one name. Effie smooth's out the paper and I swallow and I hope to God that it's not me. And it's not me. And it's not Madge. It's Hannah Farrow.

Hannah Farrow, twelve years old, just like me. There is a mumble running through the crowd as there always is when a twelve year old tribute is chosen. Then Hannah steps forward. Her golden hair is platted loosely behind her head, she wears a plain yellow dress with yellow flats, her face empty of emotion. She has a brother. He's fifteen. Storm Farrow. They were close, very close, and when they ask for volunteers to take her place he cannot step forwards for her, and neither does anyone else. Hannah stands on the balcony next to Effie Trinket as she pulls out the paper from the bowl full of male names, and Ferren Talon steps forward. He too, like Hannah, shows no emotion on his face. Emotion is a sign of weakness, you would be seen as an easy target if you cried, and you would be the first to die.

The ceremony finished earlier than usual, and I raced out of the pen and Prim met me with a hug. I stroked her hair and I was so glad that I hadn't been chosen, I couldn't leave her here, not to starve if I didn't come back.

"I'm so glad it wasn't you, Katniss." She sniffed. My mother nodded at me and I gave a curt smile. I had learnt not to rely on my mother much and those curt nods and smiles will be the closest things that either of us come to love. I soothed Prim quietly and we began to walk back to the house. On the way I saw Hannah's mother being comforted by Storm, I think he knew she wasn't going to come back. Only fools hoped for something that wasn't going to be, and I was a fool in thinking there was going to be a better place than Panem. The meal that night was a good one. We ate the leftover rabbit and squirrel stew and ate berries on the rest of the bread I traded at the Hob. After Prim was tucked into bed that night, her small frame cuddled against the rough canvas, and Buttercup watching over her like a dog, I headed out to the Hob. I would trade some oil with Greasy Sae for something nice for Prim's birthday which came in a week. The Hob was quiet because most people were at home with their loved ones, celebrating another reprieve from the Hunger Games. Greasy Sae was still at her shop, serving wild dog stew to those who wished to eat it. I hopped up on the counter and Greasy Sae offered me some stew, I took it and the bony old woman traded my oil for some fruit bread. It may not last till Prim's birthday but I could get her something else through my trades later in the week. I drained the stew quickly, leaving the empty bowl upon the counter.

"Only six more years, Katniss." Said Greasy Sae. "Then you won't have to be in those wretched games anymore."

"But what about Prim?" I say. Thinking of my little sister being reaped for the games pained me. I couldn't lose someone else, not after father died. I couldn't lose Prim to the Capitol's annual Hunger Games. "She still has to enter, I can't lose her to the games." Greasy Sae looked over at me and a smile played at the old woman's lips.

"Maybe you won't have to." I was confused at what Sae had just said. 'Maybe you won't have to,' what does that mean? She wasn't suggesting I took Prim and ran away, that would be ridiculous, we wouldn't make it five miles. The Capitol would catch us, and then where would we be? Dead. That's where we'd be. "This came for you today." Greasy Sae pulled a letter out from under the counter and handed it over to me. Who would be sending a letter to me? I looked down at the letter, my eyes tracing the back of the envelope. A red wax seal was on the back, it was split into four segments each with an animal. I turned the letter over and looked at the front. Surely this was a mistake, nobody would be writing to me. I looked at the green curled ink and the letter was for me and it read.

**Katniss Everdeen**

**District Twelve**

**Panem**

"Who sent this?" I ask.

"A friend of mine. He can help, Katniss." I looked over at the old woman. He can help. Who is he? And I bet he can't help, he can't take me and Prim away from this place. He can't stop the games. Questions still flowed through my mind as I tore open the letter. I pulled out the piece of parchment and keeping a little open minded I began to read.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First class, Grand Sorc., Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards, Panem Fellow). **

**Dear Miss Everdeen,**

**We are pleased to inform you that, after close review of your extraordinary exploits in District Twelve of Panem, the odds have turned out magically in your favour. You have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.**

**Please find an orange backpack behind Greasy Sae's stew stand in the Hob. Please feel free to wear a symbol of Panem pride while you attend. **

**When you touch the backpack you will be transported to a new world of magic and wonder. Further instructions will await you there. **

**Yours sincerely,**

**Minerva McGonagall**

**Deputy Headmistress.**

I look over at Greasy Sae my brows furrowed. This is some joke. It has to be. Witches and Wizards don't exist, and this must be some sick joke. Touch a backpack and you will be transported to a magical world. Rubbish. Utter rubbish.

"You really don't expect me to believe this rubbish." I say, folding the letter back up and putting it back in the envelope.

"You don't have to believe anything, Katniss." Said Greasy Sae. She passed a bowl of stew down the counter to a man who drained it quickly and left. "Just try the backpack." She points round the back of her stall and there it is. An orange backpack. Rubbish. Things don't transport people to different places like that it's just not possible. But there is that doubt. That one inch of doubt in the back of my head saying: _What if? What if this is real? What if this is your chance?_ My mind wanders to Prim as I stare at the pack. Would she be alright if I left? Who would feed her? Who would take care of my baby sister?

"Prim." I say. One word said it all to Greasy Sae who looked at me with kind eyes. She placed a hand on my shoulder and nodded.

"They can help. Just give them a chance." I look at the kindly old woman who bought my wild dog meat and traded me food and oil. "I will make sure she is alright." I look back at the pack. Hope. That's what it is. Hope. Hope for me. Hope for my mother. Hope for Prim. Maybe this world of witches and wizards can save Panem and end the Hunger Games.

"Make sure Prim gets this." I say handing over the fruit loaf to Greasy Sae. If this turned out to be a joke after all this I would look so stupid. But my child mind made me think. Yes, this is real. This is my chance. Greasy Sae nods and gestures to the backpack. I crouch down next to it, my mind wandering back to Prim once more. She'll be safe, she doesn't go into the reaping for four years, nothing can claim her and Greasy Sae will look after her, she'll be fine. She'll understand. I reach out for the backpack and as my hand closes around the strap Panem is sucked from beneath me and I land face down on a wooden floor.

I stand up and look around. The room is different to any I have ever seen in District Twelve, there is a desk cluttered with many things. A quill and ink pot, parchment, books and a strange red bird which looked at me strangely as I survey the room. There is a strange looking man in a painting behind the desk. I walk around the cluttered desk towards it and a little gold plaque underneath it reads, _Phineas Nigellus_. I look up at the painting and the slow rise and fall of the man's chest. Hang on a minute. Paintings don't breath. I step back shocked. The man in the painting is breathing and so are the other paintings that are hung in the room. I gasp and place my hand over my mouth almost knocking into the perch of the strange red bird.

"I see you have found your way, Katniss Everdeen." I turn around and standing in the doorway was a very old looking man with silver hair, a rather large beard and half-moon spectacles. He was dressed entirely in purple robes which had silver moons and stars stitched onto it and had a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "My name is Albus Dumbledore."

Maybe the odds were in my favour after all.

* * *

><p><strong>So there's chapter one. Please review it will be much appreciated. Thanks x<strong>


	2. Many strange things

**Dicsclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or The Hunger Games**

* * *

><p>I've seen many strange things since I left Panem, the breathing pictures, the strange red bird I now know to be Fawkes the phoenix and of course the strange but utterly brilliant Albus Dumbledore. But none of them prepared me for a talking hat.<p>

Professor Dumbledore had told me all about Hogwarts just moments after I had arrived, via orange backpack, into his office. It was a historic school with four founders who each gave their name to a Hogwarts House. Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin, he had told me that I would be sorted into one of the houses after he had explained more about what would happen at my time at Hogwarts. I would attend the school for seven years, at the end of each year I would return home to Panem, and during my stay the Professor would send house elves (whatever they were) with food, to District Twelve to sustain my mother and Prim while I was gone. This I was glad for, at least now I knew they wouldn't starve whilst I was away at Hogwarts. I was also presented with a wand made from cherry wood with a centre of unicorn hair, after this the Professor gave me the sorting hat. I placed the hat on my head and jumped when its voice travelled through my ear.

"Ah, you are the lucky one, Katniss Everdeen." It said. The lucky one? What could that mean? "You are one of the few who get to choose what house you will be sorted into." It then launched into a song about the four houses.

_You might belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart, their daring, nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart. _

I have courage, I am sure of that. Without courage I wouldn't have ventured out into the woods every day to find food for my mother and Prim. I am pretty daring to and I do have courage, but Chivalry? Men don't really adore me, at least I think they don't. Never the less, Gryffindor sounds pretty cool.

_You might belong in Hufflepuff where they are just as loyal, those daring Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil_.

I'd do just about anything for Prim and I do wish that I could live in a world where justice and fairness prevailed, not like the world I live in now. And I'm not afraid of toil if it involves hunting.

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw if you've a ready mind where those of wit and learning will always find their kind._

I'd like to think I was smart, perhaps even slightly witty. I did come up with good comebacks when me and Prim used to bicker as kids. To be honest I could be in any of the houses the hat has mentioned so far, but maybe I am too scared or selfish or too uneducated for any of them. I just hope that I will fit into one house.

_Or perhaps in Slytherin you'll make your real friends, those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends_.

The Slytherins sound a lot like the Capitol. But perhaps I need to get in with these people to make a difference to District Twelve, to save Panem, to save Prim.

_So put me on! Don't be afraid! Don't get in a flap! You're in safe hands (though I have none) for I'm the thinking cap!_

"You have many talents, Miss Everdeen. So you are one of the few who gets to choose their own destiny." Said the hat. "All you need is to declare and I shall shout and put you there." I ponder this for a moment. Slytherin. If I end up with people who are like the Capitol then I may just end up being like the Capitol in the end and I don't want that. I don't think I am smart enough to be a Ravenclaw, and I may not be so true to be put in Hufflepuff, so I say silently to the hat.

"Gryffindor. Put me in Gryffindor." I smile when the hats brim rips and it shouts Gryffindor to Professor Dumbledore. The Professor nods and takes me along to the Gryffindor tower. He tells me that this will be where the Gryffindors spend most of their time when not in their lessons. He also hands me a timetable which has my lessons set out on a two week schedule. We reached a painting of a rather large woman and Dumbledore stopped me. I looked up at the picture questioningly and she looked back at me.

"Password?" She said dryly. I looked over at Dumbledore because I certainly didn't know the password. He smiled at the fat lady before answering.

"Caput Draconis." The gold rimmed portrait swung open then and I was met with the noise of loads of students bustling about in the room. Dumbledore stepped through the portrait and I followed hesitantly. The silence was deafening when he entered and everyone in the room ceased what they had been doing moments before. I'm guessing this was probably because Gryffindor wasn't blessed with a visit from their headmaster every day. Lucky them. I snuck a peek around the Professor and my eyes wandered around the room. The Gryffindor common room was covered in red as far as my eyes could see and there were Lions scattered around the room. A sofa sat in front of the fire and other seated cushioned chairs were scattered around the room. I wasn't paying attention to what the Professor was saying until he stepped aside so I was in full view of everyone in the room. I was then met with a cheer and a round of applause. I found it strange, being applauded just for being somewhere never happened in District Twelve in fact the cheering was foreign in my ears. Dumbledore left then and a surge of people came forwards to greet me. Their names and faces blurred as I shook what seemed like hundreds of hands and already Hogwarts seemed like a better place than Panem.

That night I left for my dorm early and began writing a letter to Prim and my mother. I had to let them know I was okay and tell them I would be home soon.

**Prim,**

**I'm just writing to let you know I'm fine and I'm safe. Although I can't tell you where I am, just know I'll be home soon. This place, it's nothing like Panem its better and what I'm doing is keeping you and Mom fed and safe. Eventually when you are old enough, I hope to bring you here so we can all be safe. I'll be home in the summer, Prim. Don't go to the Hob or stray outside the fence, someone will bring you food. Look after Mom, I know she'll need it and please understand that I haven't left you. I will never leave you. Until I see you again, which shouldn't be long. Stay strong. Stay safe.**

**Katniss.**

I fold the letter. I'll send it by owl tomorrow morning before class starts. Hopefully Prim will understand what I am doing and wont resent me for it.

"Who's Prim?" I turn from the nightstand and standing behind me is a bushy haired girl about my size. I stand and shuffle uneasily on my feet.

"My little sister." I say. I push the letter under my pillow and sit down on the bed. I place my hand on the soft surface. It is nothing like the beds in Panem, it is soft, comfortable, nothing like home. I think about my mother and Prim then, how they will be splayed out on the rough canvas, Buttercup watching over them no longer hissing, possibly happy because I am gone and my heart aches. "I left her."

"I'm sure she'll understand." Said the girl. She sat on the bed opposite me and smiled. "I'm Hermione Granger." I look over at Hermione, she seems nice, friendly, innocent, she seems many things but I don't really know her. But then again I never really knew anyone in District Twelve except my family, Madge and Greasy Sae. I wonder then, did Greasy Sae deliver the bread to Prim or did she sell it? Perhaps I will never know, I will pay Prim back for the birthday I will miss. Bring her something from Hogwarts something she will treasure.

"I'm Katniss Everdeen." I reply kicking off my boots and lying down on the bed, caressing the soft fabric beneath me. So this is what comfort is like.

Over the next few weeks I settle into Hogwarts life, I learn so many new things, spells, charms, hexes, curses and potions, but that is my least favourite part. I wish I had a bow and arrow that I could shoot Snape with, that potions teacher is enough to make anyone's skin crawl and I absolutely hated him. There was one speck of news however that had me excited. Quidditch try-outs. At first I had absolutely no idea what Quidditch was, but a boy called Ronald Weasley was kind enough to explain to me. I was glad because that would take my mind off Panem and what was going on in the Games. A burly sixth year boy, Oliver Wood, had announced that because someone had an injury they would be looking for chasers on the Quidditch team too. At first I thought that Quidditch might have been like the Hunger Games. Ron's brothers, Fred and George had been kind enough to show me how it was played. So that morning I walked down to the Quidditch pitch. It was huge, except it looked nothing like an arena used in the Hunger Games there was no Cornucopia, no weapons, no means of shelter or anything like that. I stood in the centre of the pitch, there were six rather large hoops, three at each end. Maybe they were means of shelter. Maybe this was a worse version of the games and I felt instantly sickened. Fred and George emerged then, being twins they were exactly the same in every way, the same fiery red hair and blue eyes, the same amount of freckles dotted across their faces, every way the same. They dragged behind them a large casket. Possibly full of weapons, I thought to myself. Three brooms and two very large bats. I shrank away as the twins came closer, and one twins shot a glance at the other.

"You alright, Katniss?" Said the twin on the left. I think it is Fred. I eyed the bats they held in their hands, then the concerned looks on their faces.

"You're not going to hit me with that are you?" I asked, feeling stupid when both twins erupted into a fit of laughter. I looked down at the ground and shuffled uncomfortably. What else was I supposed to think? I had grown up with this violence being portrayed on T.V screens, twenty three inhumane deaths every year and for what? The Capitol's enjoyment. I mentally scolded myself for thinking such a thing. Hogwarts was not like the Capitol, Hogwarts is like a home. It is safe, and I am safe.

"Why would you think we were going to hit you with it?" Said George through laughter.

"I just grew up with it I guess." I say before thinking and the twins cease their laughter.

"You're beaten at home?" Asked Fred. He shared a glance with his twin and then looked back at me.

"No, I'm not." I say quickly. "My parents never beat me."

"Then why did you say that?" Said George. I glance at the ground and shuffle uncomfortably, like I do when I am nervous. I don't see the harm in telling the twins about the Hunger Games. They will never go to Panem. They will never see the Games so why not? It gets it off my chest as well.

"It's what happens in Panem." I say. Pausing for a moment and sitting down on the grass. The twins follow and they place the bats down at their side. "There is this competition, called the Hunger Games."

"Is it an eating contest?" Said George. He earned a jab in the ribs from Fred and he muttered something about being insensitive before I continued.

"No, but I can see why you said that. Maybe it would be better if it was an eating contest." So I explained about the Districts and the uprising eventually leading up to the Games. The twins listened in silence while I talked, it might have been through shock but I don't know. "And this year, because I have to look after my little sister I was put in four times, and its accumulative so next year I will be entered five times plus however many tesserae I choose to receive. In the end though, only one person comes out alive each year. The others are killed and this goes on every year, possibly still going on now."

"Bloody hell." Said Fred. "How can they do that? It's just barbaric. I'm sorry, Katniss." I shook my head at them.

"Don't be sorry, hopefully when Prim, my sister is old enough she can come here too and she won't have to be in the games." I smile and think of Prim. She would love it here, she would love the Care of Magical Creatures classes and Herbology and she'd love the History of the castle too. I could picture her playing with pixies and dancing with fairies, she would love it here. She's too fragile for Panem, it would crush her. Everything here is so much better. "Now come on. You're meant to be teaching me how to play Quidditch."

Quidditch was brilliant. I loved the feeling of being on a broom and according to Fred and George I was a natural chaser. I was glad that I had signed up for try-outs because it was fun playing in a team. I had never played in a team before, I'd heard of teams of course. There would always be a team of tributes in the Hunger Games called the Careers who would hunt down the others, eventually turning on one another. I loved Quidditch and even if I didn't get on the team I would still play, it was the best fun I have ever had.

I ran into the common room that Saturday afternoon filled with glee. Hermione, Ron and their friend Harry Potter were sitting on the sofa. Hermione of course, had her head buried in a book. The two boys were hunched over a chess board. Ron cheered as his knight successfully decapitated Harry's bishop and I ran over beaming. Hermione looked up from her book.

"So did you get it?" She asked. Meaning the Quidditch position. Hermione knew how much I loved Quidditch but it would always come in at a second to Hunting. I nodded excitedly and she squealed with delight. Hermione wasn't really a Quidditch fan. She went and watched the games because Harry played seeker but other than that I don't think it interested her much. I high fived Harry and Ron and they sunk back into their game, Harry groaning as Ron's queen checked his king.

Christmas came fast. I was so caught up with Quidditch practices and homework that I had completely forgotten the time of year. Snow was falling exceedingly fast upon the ground each day a new layer of snow covered up footprints from the previous day and snowball fights became a daily occurrence with the twins. On Christmas day I received a package from someone in Panem. A bow and sheath of arrows. I don't know who sent it me but the packaging was definitely from District Twelve. I had been pondering the strange present all night. Who could have sent it me? Definitely not Prim, nor mother, and I doubt Greasy Sae would leave her stall to carve it. So the mystery went on. In fact I had been pondering the present so much that I found it impossible to sleep, so I headed back down to the common room.

The common room was empty, of course. Most people were probably asleep seen as it was nearly two o'clock in the morning. I settled down on the sofa in front of the fire, the dull embers were still flickering feebly in the grate. I curled my legs up on the sofa and I had only been sitting there a few minutes when I heard someone coming down the stairs from the boys tower. I couldn't see who it was in the dim light of the fire but he threw a shimmering cloak over himself and disappeared. I supressed a gasp as the portrait door opened by itself. I couldn't stay away after what I'd just seen. As silently as I can I sneak out of the portrait hole and I go after the invisible person. I traipsed down the corridor and towards the stairs following the distant echo of invisible footsteps. There was a flash of light in front of me for a moment and then it had gone, and a small snippet of trainer before it disappeared back into the gloom again. I follow the sounds and the odd flash of light and trainer until I reach the library. The library? Who would be visiting the library at two o'clock in the morning? I would have guessed Hermione but she is at home for the holidays. I go to follow the person into the library but another noise catches my attention. The dull wheezing breath and scampering feet of Argus Filch and his demon cat Mrs Norris. I scamper in the other direction, my trainers making dull thuds as the soles hit the floor. I have never been down this corridor before and in the dull gloom everything looks so much creepier. I finally come across a door and try my luck, besides anything would be better than a run in with Filch and Norris. I close my hand around the handle and sneak in closing it behind me. Upon closing the door and turning around my eyes grace a beautiful ornate mirror in the centre of the room. I walk closer to it and look up at the inscription carved deep within the stone. _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_.

"_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_? What the bloody hell does that mean?" I say to myself. I step closer to the mirror expecting to see my reflection but I see is what I least expect and it makes me yelp and turn for fear I have gone mad. But no I am the only person in the room but what the mirror reflects is not me. It's Prim.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review if you feel like it x <strong>


	3. Maybe this could be real

"Prim," I say, reaching out to touch the mirror that reflects the image of my little sister. But its not just her I see where my reflection should stand, I see Hogwarts… Prim, happy and safe at Hogwarts. It only takes me half a second to convince myself that this image isn't real, there is some trickery behind this mirror, but maybe… just maybe… this image could be real… Maybe the mirror is telling me that this can be real, and it can be real. I just have to bring Prim here, so she is safe.

I could stand here forever, just staring at my sister, just forging this fake memory of her standing next to me. In fact I didn't stand there for as nearly as long as I wanted because at that moment I heard footsteps scurrying up the corridor, it was that that made me mould into the deepest shadow that I could find and hold my breath.

In the torch light I could now clearly see the person that interrupted my staring contest with the jinxed mirror. The mop of messy black hair, and large, round glasses. It was Harry Potter. That was who I had seen exiting the Gryffindor common room, but what could he have been doing going to the library at two in the morning?

Harry stood before the mirror, like I did moments ago, and he too reached for it to touch the image that relayed itself back to him. Somehow I know that the image he saw wasn't my sister, although in the mirror I could still clearly see her staring back at me. Harry sat in front of the mirror for hours, and I fought every nerve in my body not to jump out at him and tell him to get a bloody move on. The sun would be rising soon, we'd be lucky to get back to the tower by sun up. In fact it was when the sun had almost breeched the forbidden forest that Harry decided to move. I had to sprint back to the Gryffindor tower and back up to bed to avoid suspicious glances from my remaining roommates for they hadn't grown accustomed to my abnormal sleeping patterns.

From that night, I decided to keep an eye on Harry Potter and his friends. They were up to something… something very strange indeed.

Maybe it was because I was watching Harry closely, but it seemed now more than ever that he was withdrawn from the rest of the Quidditch team, and definitely more distracted than usual. Still, I'm sure I wasn't the only one who noticed this, throughout practice Oliver's gaze lingered on Harry more than the rest of us, including when Fred decided it would be fun to set off a small rocket under the bench. It's not just Harry either, when I'm not distracted by playing Quidditch with the twins, or writing to Prim I notice that the trio are constantly whispering amongst one another and unless they all have a severe case of laryngitis then they really are planning something, and this constant whispering increased as the year began to draw to a rather swift close. Too swift for my liking.

"_The tribute for District Twelve, Primrose Everdeen!"_

_I can't help shoving through the crowd; they aren't going to take my sister away from me, not if I can help it. They begin to shove against me, the sea of people beginning to become even harder to push through. I can't let them do this! They can't do this!_

"_Prim! Prim! Not my sister! Please not Prim!" I yell, pushing and shoving against them. _

_Prim takes the podium next to Effie Trinket whose hair is still a rather flamboyant shade of fuchsia. I have to get to her, I must! In the time it takes me to shove to the front two peacekeepers are leading Prim into the justice building. I sprint up the stairs, my lungs burning from the effort of yelling._

"_Prim! Stop!" She doesn't even look at me, she's ignoring me! Why is she ignoring me? _

_Slipping on the last step I manage to stumble back into balance as the doors of the justice building slam shut…_

**THUMP.**

I jolt awake; the moon is hanging lazily in the sky outside of the window. I slip out of bed and glance over at the other two occupied beds of Lavender and Parvarti. Hermione's bed, however, is empty. Since there was no light in the washroom, whatever the trio are doing is happening tonight. Slipping into my shoes and snatching my bow from under the bed I make my way, as quietly as I can, out of the dorm and take the stairs two at a time. The common room is still illuminated by the fire that glows in the hearth. I get to the last step, and, not watching my feet, almost step on the limp form of Neville Longbottom. This is Hermione's work…

"Sorry, Neville," I say apologetically. "You'll only fight if I release you… I'll find them…"

Quickly as I can, my bow slung over my shoulder, I exit the common room and head down the moving staircase keeping on my toes to avoid any unnecessary noise. I glance around the hallways as I pass them, and occasionally peak over the bannisters of the stairs to check if they are below. _They must be wearing that blasted invisibility cloak…_

"Ouch! Ron that was my foot!" At the commotion from below I glance over the bannister again. Thank Merlin they aren't quiet otherwise it would be much harder to locate them. They seem to be forgetting the fact that the halls are being patrolled by a man that would love nothing more than to chain them up by their thumbs in the dungeons for being out of bed.

I hurry down the stairs and stop at the third floor where their voices are drifting from. Are they stupid? Dumbledore told everyone never to go down the third floor corridor! On pain of death if I remember rightly. This must be something big for Hermione to break the rules. I follow their voices down the corridor, ducking behind statues and pillars whenever possible.

Whimsical music notes fill the air as the trio slip through a door right at the end of the hall. I slip behind a suit of armour, waiting for their return. Minutes slip by without hide or tail of them… Then panicked yells emit from within. Immediately I jump from behind the suit of armour and burst through the door, bow and arrow aimed. Instead of bumping into the trio, like I expected, I'm looking into the droopy eyes of a slobbering, three headed dog. A melody begins to float from the harp placed in the corner of the room, with a great snore the mutt drops its head with a loud thump that rumbles the floor beneath my feet. I breathe a sigh of relief, I'd hate to imagine what the dog would be like if it was engineered by the Capitol, a mere harp wouldn't stop it then.

"HAVE YOU GONE MAD? ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?" I hear Ron's voice echo up from below. In danger again? Bloody hell, what is this? And why in Merlin's name is this of all things in a school?

I sneak forwards using the skills I picked up hunting to not disturb the three headed dog. Looking down into the hole I can see nothing except for darkness. Taking a breath I jump down into the hole, in a moment I land on a rough surface. As I rub my hand along it the substance breaks off into my hand leaving charred lines upon my hands. The putrid smell then enters my nose… Fire. Dusting the black from my hands I head towards a door on the far side of the room. As I reach it, it begins to close of its own accord, slipping through, I am thrown into light which blinds me momentarily. Glancing up around me as the hazy blur clears, I see hundreds upon hundreds of birds. Their wings clattering and buzzing as they swoop and dive. Wait… they aren't birds… They're keys!

Harry and the others have yet to notice my presence, so I slip into the shadow of a pillar as they mount the brooms on the other side of the room. As soon as they rise into the air, it is quite apparent that the keys don't want to be caught, moments before they were flying contently, but now they zoom about in a frantic scurry. They trio dart after the different keys, and while they do so I glance at the door on the other side of the room. The door is old, very old, the lock is almost completely rusted… Which means the key must be old too. I glance back up, my eyes too darting for the key.

Then I spot it. Its old and rusted, just like the lock, and it has a broken wing. I'm almost certain I can shoot it down, after all it is going half the speed of the others… I pull my bow from my shoulder and knock an arrow… but I hesitate. I'm a witch… Surely it would be easier to acquire the key with magic… No, I can shoot it. After all, my bow is practically an extension of my body.

I take in a breath and pull back the string carefully watching Harry, Hermione and Ron's flying patterns. The last thing I want to do is hit them. I release the string, the arrow flies past Ron, missing him by a few inches amazingly he doesn't notice, and slams through the hole in the key trapping it against a wooden ceiling beam.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Yelled Ron, eyeing the key suspiciously. I duck back into the shadows, pulling the bow back over my shoulder.

"It's accidental magic," Hermione reasoned, flying up and looking over at the arrow lodged in the beam. "You must have conjured the arrow with your wand, Ron. Perhaps you transfigured one of the other keys."

Ron eyed his wand with awe and almost inaudibly murmured, "Cool."

"That's great, really." Said Harry, "But we've got to get a move on; he could already have the stone by now!"

They hurry from their brooms and fit the key in the lock, momentarily jiggling it so the latch on the other side clicked. Harry and Ron walk through the now open door, but Hermione stops abruptly.

"If you're still there, you should know that this is going to get dangerous." She said, never turning to face me. A shiver runs up my spine, how does she know I'm here? "Please climb the Devils Snare back up to the third floor corridor, if we're not back in half an hour, please fetch Professor McGonagall." With that, she walks through the door and closes it behind her.

Heeding Hermione's words, I realise that in order to really help them I will have to do what she had asked. After all, there is only so much I can do with a bow and arrow. Opening the door with a new disregard to being quiet I sprinted back through the room, climbing up the charred Devils Snare as fast as I could, and up through the trap door where the harp was still soothing the three headed dog with a new melody.

Exiting that room, more quietly now, as I realised a run in with Filch and his demon cat wouldn't do me or the trio any good. I slipped behind a tapestry, sat as quietly as I could… and waited…

Ten minutes passed… Nothing. Was that an echoing yell I heard from below? Maybe I should go and get Professor McGonagall. No, Hermione said half an hour… Twenty minutes… Twenty five… Nothing. Oh hell, it will be thirty minutes by the time I get to McGonagall. Jumping out from behind the tapestry, I sprint down the corridor and back up the moving staircases, two at a time. I sprint up towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts tower where McGonagall's room was located and wasted no time in hammering as loud as I could upon the door. There was a minute of muttering before the door swung open and the Professor stood slightly dishevelled in her tartan house coat.

"Miss Everdeen!" She exclaimed, "What is the meaning of this?"

"Professor! Come quick!" I said slightly breathless from the constant sprint up to the tower. "It's Harry, Professor! He needs help! Something about a stone, on the third floor!" McGonagall's eyes widened with alarm at the mention of the stone.

"Thank you, Miss Everdeen, now quickly, back to your dormitory." With that she hurried off down the staircases to the third floor.

A moment crossed my mind when I thought about following the elderly professor back down to the third floor, but I had done all I could do. Now it is time for me to wait… I only hope that they're alright.

I took a slower pace as I headed back to the Gryffindor tower, speaking the password to the Fat Lady; I climbed inside and took up residence on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Neville was no longer on the floor; he must have been released from the full body bind. Maybe it was because of having to wait a long time over the course of the night, or maybe it was just generally because of my lack of a substantial amount of sleep but my eyes seemed to droop very quickly, and after only moments the dancing embers in the fireplace faded into oblivion.

"Oi, Katniss! Wake up sleepyhead!" I jump awake at the sound of one of the twins' voices, almost falling from my perch. How did they get into the girls dorm? It's enchanted not to allow anyone but the girls upon the steps. I rub my eyes, the sleep becoming eradicated from my thoughts, and I find that I am not in the girls dorm, I am in the common room. Then I remember the events that transpired last night and I jump from the seat, causing the nearest twin to fall off the sofa in surprise.

"Where are they?" I ask worriedly, "Have you seen Ron this morning?" They shake their heads which only worries me more.

"Ron's probably still in bed, you know how…" Fred doesn't even get a chance to finish his words.

"We have to go to the hospital wing. Now!" Without another word I hurry out of the portrait hole still in my pyjamas, my bow and sheath of arrows still draped over my shoulders. The twins follow their long legs keeping up with my shorter strides easily.

"Katniss!" Said George breathlessly, "Tell us whats wrong, is Ron hurt?"

"I don't know," I admit rounding the corner to the hospital wing. "Just keep up!"

I burst into the hospital wing so fast that the doors banged off the walls, Madam Pomfrey was tending to someone in the last bed, at our entrance she turned around abruptly.

"Miss Everdeen, Mr Weasley's, you do realise this _is_ a hospital wing!" She scolded, but she didn't have a chance to finish her rant as my eyes fell upon a very worried looking red head sitting opposite the bed Madam Pomfrey was tending to.

"Ron!" I almost yell, sprinting down the ward, Fred and George behind me. Madam Pomfrey stared on with wide eyes as the three of us skidded to a halt at Ron's bedside.

"How are you? Where's Harry? Hermione?" Ron tapped the bandage that was wrapped around his forehead.

"Just a little bump that's all… Hermione's fine but…" His gaze lingered on the bed opposite. I glanced over, Harry was out cold. I gasped.

"What happened to you lot?"

And so the story was relayed, Ron didn't once question how I knew that they were in the hospital wing, I just told him that Hermione had told me and I thought it was imperative that Fred and George were informed of Ron's visit to the wing. It seemed that after I had left, Harry came face to face with the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher Professor Quirrell who was after the Philosophers Stone, whatever that was. He was also harbouring the Dark Lord Voldemort on the back of his head.

Of course after this story was told to us the twins and I just had to tell everyone in range, well more the twins than I. After that the twins decided it would be a good idea to bring Harry a toilet seat, so they departed for the bathrooms. The twins possessed very strange minds indeed.

Three days, that's how long Harry was in the hospital wing. Three days he had been in a coma like state. I as well as everybody else was extremely happy when he woke up, but he didn't want to replay what had happened to him with Quirrell, although he didn't really need to, Ron had told enough people a thousand times when he recovered from the Hospital wing.

All too soon it was the last day; all too soon I had to go back to Panem back to another reaping, back to semi surviving from the food I can gather from the woods. Hopefully however, the House Elves have sustained my family for the duration of this year. Goodbyes are said quickly, I don't want to face the fact that I may not be able to come back if I am drawn for this reaping. I give the trio a hug, and a lingering hug to Fred and George. I had become close to them this year, if only they could come back to Panem with me, things would not be so bleak. But I would never wish that fate upon anyone, never would I want to see Fred or George in the Games, I don't think I'd be able to bear it.

"See you later, Katniss!" They say in sync as we depart from the train. "Don't do anything we wouldn't!"

A fleeting wink and a wave then they are gone. I grab my backpack and I am sucked back into the vortex, spiralling back towards Panem.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh my rowling, i'm so sorry i havent updated in ages, i'm flitting between fanfics and my novel at the moment, but now summers here i can officially spend all day typing! <strong>

**Anyway please review if you feel like it. x**


	4. Author's Note

Hello everyone,

Firstly I would like to apologize greatly for not updating any of my fanfictions in a very long time. I know many of you wish for me to continue with my stories, however I have very little time to myself now that I have a job and it is taking up a lot of my time, as well as studying for college work. Most days I come home and go straight to bed. Not that this is an excuse, of course. I still very much like writing and sharing my stories with all of you and I am very grateful to all of you who take the time to read, review, favorite and follow me. It does not go unnoticed although I may not reply to many comments. I still continue to write and my OC's stories will continue. I have not forgotten about Theia, Primrose, Ella, Saskia, Cerridwen, Katniss or any of my other protagonists, their stories are updated a little at a time, and I will update soon.

I want to thank you all for your continued readership and it means a great deal to me.

I hope you have all had a Merry Christmas and New Year, and that you will have the best year for 2014!

Until my next update.

-WWW


End file.
